


Hot Mess

by HayaChu



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Ash - Freeform, Day 5 Prompt, I actually had this done a few days after the prompt was due but i forgot to post it, JeanMarco Week 2014, M/M, Super late for JeanMarco week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 02:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2634992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HayaChu/pseuds/HayaChu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I close my eyes, hiding from the world falling apart before me and only paying attention to the arms wrapped around me.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Mess

**Author's Note:**

> Was for JeanMarco Week 2014, but it's super late! I actually finished this before the week was over, but I forgot to post it! This will be a Multiple-Oneshot series, with various ratings... whenever I can get to the next part (which was supposed to be for the prompt Uniform, but my schedule got super busy.)

I’m not a morning person. Typically I wake up slowly, groggily, and grumpily. Mornings suck.

 

But as my eyes slowly flitter open on this particular morning I quickly realize that this morning is going to be, by far, the _worst._

My eyes are runny and my throat is scratchy, and it’s hard to breath. I hack a few times before heated, heavy air fills my lungs. In the haze surrounding me I realize that the ringing that I thought was my alarm-clock was actually a fire alarm.

 

I’m out of bed faster than I ever have been in my entire life, dropping to the floor of my smoke-filled bedroom. That’s what I’m supposed to do, right? Stay low to the ground.

 

_But I live on the third floor._

Fuck!

 

I don’t even know what I should do. I can see the glow of the fire from the gap under my door and the flames licking at my building from my window.

 

I hear a large crash from outside my bedroom door and my mind automatically jumps to the worst. _Is the ceiling coming down? Is the foor falling through? Am I going to die?_

_I am going to die…_

I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’mgoingtodie. IMGOINGTO—

 

“Is there anybody in here?!”

 

_Oh thank God!_

At least I won’t die alone.

 

“Hello?” the stranger calls out again, and I realize they don’t know where I am. Of course they don’t, I’m locked my room goddammit!

 

“Here! In he—” my voice dissolves into grubby hacking, hoping that whoever is on the other side of the door actually heard me.

 

They did. I think… if the banging on my bedroom door is anything to go by.

 

“Get away from the door!”

 

I follow the anonymous command immediately, crawling into the corner of my room furthest from the door.

 

“O-okay!”

 

One last loud bang and the door busts open, the door falling from its hinges.

 

I recognize the garb the figure before me is wearing instantly, and I want to cry. It’s a firefighter.

 

I’m saved!

 

…

 

…

 

_Err… Maybe._

My gaze falls on the scene behind the firefighter as he approaches me, the flames devouring my apartment are everywhere. How are we going to get out? We’re going to die. Going to die. Goingto—

 

Large hands grabbing me and lifting me pull me from my thoughts, and before I even realize it I’m clinging to the other’s form as they carry me bridal-style back towards the flames.

 

_No! No!_

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”

 

The voice is soft and calming, and suddenly I’m a whole lot less worried. I close my eyes, hiding from the world falling apart before me and only paying attention to the arms wrapped around me.

 

I catch the sound of a crackling radio and a grainy voice, barely audible over the roar of the flames.

 

_“Freckles, where are you?”_

“Third floor, on my way down with a single.”

 

Another crackle, _“Right behind you with a single and two halves.”_ This voice was different from the other, definitely female.

 

 _“That should be all the residents on this floor according to the neighbors,”_ The first voice from the radio responds and I crack my eyes open as the heat on my face lessens slightly. We’re in the hallway outside my apartment and making our way towards the stairs.

 

My gaze falls on two more figures clad in firefighter’s garb. One incredibly tall, holding a kid in each arm. The other figure is much smaller, carrying a woman twice their size. I recognize those being carried as the family that lives across the hall from me.

 

The radio chatter continues, but I drown the rest of it out as we head down the three flight of stairs.

 

I finally let out a sigh of relief as the cool night air hits my bare skin, and I suddenly remember I’m clad only in a pair of ratty sweatpants. _Wonderful._

 

I’m carried all the way to the waiting paramedics before being set down gently. I quickly take in my surroundings. Everything is chaotic.

 

There’s a fire truck with it’s large hose pumping water at the flames bursting from the third floor windows, some firefighters talking to a few of the residents, and others running in and out of the burning building. There are paramedics working on a couple of individuals, mostly on the two I recognize as my druggie neighbors. I quickly jump to the conclusion that this is _their_ fault. There are only three apartments on the third floor, mine, theirs, and the families. I’m ready to jump and call them out on it, but an oxygen mask being pushed to my face is enough for me to redirect my attention to the situation surrounding _me._

The firefighter that saved me had pulled off his own mask at some point, and I’m greeted with a smiling face smattered in freckles, dark locks plastered to his forehead with sweat. He’s kneeling before me so that we’re at eye-level with each other.

 

“Hey there, I’m Marco. What’s your name?”

 

“Jean” I answer, removing the mask from my face to speak before settling it back into its proper place.

 

“Alright, Jean. How are you feeling? Are you hurt anywhere?” His voice is soft but steady and incredibly calming, and it’s almost like the world around us has melted away.

 

I take a mental check of my body and realize that yes, I am completely fine. “I’m good.”

 

“Good,” Marco sighs. “Jean, was there anyone else in the apartment with you?”

 

“No,” is my immediate answer, but then I realize that that’s wrong. “No, wait! Lulubelle!” My chest constricts and panic quickly rises within me. I’m up on my own two feet before I know it, trying to make my way back to my apartment, but Marco’s grasp on my shoulders keeps me in my place. “Lulu! She’s still in there!” But Marco’s pushing me back into sitting down, his expression set in a frown. “Lulu! You have to save her!”

 

She’s the only thing I have that I truly love. Nothing could replace Lulubelle, and the thought that she’s stuck in the building alone and scared, and probably choking on the smoke. The tears are streaming from my eyes and running down my cheeks before I can stop them.

 

“Hold on! Jean, who’s Lulubelle?” Marco’s calming voice cuts through the haze of my panic, but my heart continues to beat rapidly in my chest.

 

“M-my… my cat. She’s like my baby…” I know I’m sniffling as the tears fall freely, I’m doing nothing to stop them. “Please…”

 

***

 

_A cat._

A smidge of relief fills me, knowing that Lulubelle isn’t actually a person, but at the same time I can relate to Jean’s plight. To some people, their animals are their children. I look back to the building burning behind me but as soon as my gaze lands on it I know I won’t be allowed back into the building to rescue a cat. We’re obviously having enough trouble containing the flames, and I can tell it’s getting too dangerous to venture past the firts floor.

 

This is the part about this job that I hate. Being the bearer of bad news. I turn back to Jean and the expression displayed on his face is heart wrenching, his tears have washed away paths on his soot dirtied face.

 

“… Please…” he repeats, his voice weak as it cracks. I want to cry right along with him, I want to march right back into the apartment for him, but I know I can’t. I’m about to tell him this when we’re interrupted.

 

“You mean this _thing?_ ” Jean’s eyes widen as his gaze settles on the person behind me, I know who that voice belongs to. Reiner.

 

“Lulubelle!”

 

Thank God.

 

I smile and turn to thank him, but my smile quickly fades when my gaze lands on the creature in the blondes large hands.

 

 _That_ is _not_ a cat!

 

 _That_ is a monster!

 

The thing in Reiner’s grasp is larger than any house cat I’ve ever seen, hell it looks like something you’d see on Animal Planet or something! Its brown spotted coat is singed, but it still easily resembles something like a leopards’. Its large round ears flick in something that seems to be annoyance as Reiner holds the creature away from his body by its armpits.

 

Jesus the thing is huge. The length of its body, from the top of its head to the tip of its tail is larger than the length of Reiner’s torso.

 

“Lulu!” Jean stands and steps forward, and I almost reach out to hold him back. The cat hisses, swiping out at Reiner and managing to catch him somewhere.

 

“Argh!” Reiner yelps, dropping the feline and sticking his newly scratched finger in his mouth. I catch him mumble something like “devil spawn” as the cat bounds and jumps into Jean’s waiting arms, purring loudly.

 

The sight would be charming if the cat’s size wasn’t so disturbing. “Uhmm…” Jean looks up at me, the majority of his face buried in the cat’s fur. The sight brings a smile to my face, but I have to ask… “She… she _is_ domestic, isn’t she?”

 

I’d hate for Jean to get in trouble for having an illegal exotic animal or something, but it’s not like I can _not_ say something.

 

He nods, taking a seat again. I look back and notice Reiner’s gone someplace else before I take a seat next to Jean. “I know what you’re thinking,” Jean says as my gaze lands on him once more, Lulu has settled comfortably in his lap. “She’s a F1 Savannah, she’s domestic and legal.”

 

The smirk that Jean’s sporting tells me that he is very proud of his overly large feline companion, but who am I to judge?

 

“Alright, then,” That leaves that question answered. I notice one of the paramedics heading our way and I know Jean’s about to get a thorough check-up. “One last question. Do you have anyone you can stay with?”

 

Jean frowns but nods. “Yeah, I think I know someone who’ll take me in for a bit,” he instinctively reaches into his pocket for a phone, scowling when he realizes his phone is still in the burning inferno. “Goddammit!”

 

“The paramedics are going to check you out now, but I’ll go get you a phone. I’ll be right back, okay?”

 

He nods and I make my way to the fire truck, leaving the paramedic to do their job.

 

***

 

“Alright Mr. Kirschtein, looks like everything’s fine, you’re perfectly okay.”

 

_I could have told you that._

 

I keep my tongue in check however as the paramedic moves on to the next unfortunate victim of the fire.

 

I’m exhausted and I can’t wait until I can crawl into bed, _any bed,_ and get some sleep. I close my eye for a few seconds, the chaos around me falling away for just a moment.

 

“Hey.”

 

My eyes snap open and I shake the sleepy haze from my head, I’m pretty sure I just dozed off sitting on the sidewalk across the street of my smoldering apartment.

 

“Um… Hi” my gaze lands on Marco, who’s smiling brightly. Jesus, how can he be so cheery at bumfuck in the morning.

 

“Ready to make a call?”

 

I’m confused for a moment until Marco holds out a cellphone for me to take. In my half asleep state I’m sluggish to take the device from him. “Thanks, man.”

 

“No problem” He says, smile as cheery and heart lifting as ever, as he backs up a few paces to give me a bit of privacy.

 

One last deep calming breath before I take the plunge and dial the number of the one friend I have that would be willing, and has the room to take me in.

 

I wince, worry filling me as the line continues to ring… I nearly pull the phone away from my ear with the greeting I receive.

 

_“Are you fucking kidding me?! It’s three AM! Who the fuck is this?”_

_Craaaaaappppp!_ I was hoping the little angel would be the one to pick up, not the man-eating devil.

 

“Ymir, listen—”

 

_“Kirschtein? I’m gonna fucking march into your apartment and fucking cut your fucking balls off you little twat! It’s THREE FUCKING IN THE MORNING!!!”_

_Oh dear lord…_

“Ymir, there’s a problem with that” I sigh into the phone, completely done with this situation.

 

_“Yeah, shithead?”_

“Uhmm…” my gaze travels up to what was once my apartment. Most of the flames have been put out, the third floor blackened and charred. It seems most of the building was saved, my apartment and floor being excluded. “Yeah, the apartment’s gone.”

 

_“…”_

“Ymir?” If she fucking hung up on me, I swear!

 

 _“… Fuck, Jean. What did you do_ this _time?”_

“Why do you assume it was _my_ fault?!”

 

 _“Maybe because it_ is _always your fault?”_

 

“For fuck’s sake, Ymir!” I’m just about ready to chuck the phone. I can’t believe I’m putting up with this, I’m about ready to hang up and call Connie and Sasha instead… but I know I can’t do that. The two are already low on space and they’re expecting a new little addition to their family.

 

I can’t do that to them.

 

“Ymir, please don’t make me call Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head…”

 

_“… Oh, please. I’m not that heartless, Kirschtein. I’m already on my way.”_

I release a breath that I wasn’t even aware I was holding. “Thank you, Ymir. Really, thank you.”

 

_“Yeah, yeah. Just keep that devil-spawn out of my kitchen.”_

“She’s just a cat, Ymir!”

 

***

 

**_2 Days Later_ **

****

***

 

The joy of sleeping in, it’s a heavenly thing. But alas, the day must go on. Even if it’s my day off, there are things to do, and Pongo is very insistent to remind me of that.

 

“C’mon buddy, just five more minutes…” The wet lick I get up my face is a resounding ‘no’. “Okay, okay, fine! I’m up, I’m up!” It takes a bit of effort, but I’m up and out of bed and headed to the bathroom to get ready for the day within moments.

 

The whole process takes longer than Pongo would like, if the way his eyes follow my every move are anything to go by.

 

A quick shower, shave, and change of clothes later and I’m ready to embark on our morning walk. Pongo’s even got his red leash in his mouth as he waits expectantly at the door, spotted tail wagging furiously.

 

“Alright, boy. Ready to go?” I give him a quick pat on the head before taking the leash from him and clipping it onto his collar.

 

We head out, our morning walk on my days off our special ritual. Out the front door and down the stairs, our first stop is always the small patch of grass in front of the building. Pongo’s eagerly walking ahead of me, shaking my head at his haste. But as we turn the corner to the patch of grass, he stops in his tracks. And I can see why.

 

A cat. And not just any cat, but a large one wearing a blue harness with a leash that leads to…

 

“Jean?”

 

The blonde looks up from his phone, gaze pinned on me and expression set in confusion for a moment before a glimmer of recognition sparks in his eyes.

 

“Oh, umm… Marco, right?” he’s a bit sheepish, his cheeks tinging slightly as he scratches the back of his head. Although, the red hue of his skin could be caused by the cold morning weather.

 

“Right,” I smile brightly, approaching with an outstretched hand that he takes in a firm shake. “So what are you doing in this neck of the woods?”

 

He flicks a thumb back towards the apartment building I had just emerged from. “Staying with some friends of mine, since… well, you know.”

 

I frown and nod in understanding. “Well, isn’t that a nice coincidence, then?” he’s a lot more nonchalant about the situation than I am, but then again it was bad luck that put him in this situation in the first place and he’s not really got anything to be happy about. He’s lost pretty much everything, after all.

 

My eyes fall from him back down to the cat that is lazily licking one of its paws as it dutifully ignores my dog's curious, and probably a bit frightened, stare. “Sooo,” my gaze rises to find Jean looking to me with a brow raised in curiosity. “You’re _that_ kind of person, then?” I finish.

 

He scowls in return, “ _What_ kind of person?”

 

I laugh at his biting tone. “You know, the kind of person that walks their cat.”

 

The corner of his lips upturn into one of the smallest, yet most self-assured, smirks I’ve ever seen. “I’ll have you know that Savannah’s actually _enjoy_ going on walks, unlike most other cat breeds. They even like to swim!” I can’t contain my chuckles over his statement, covering my mouth with my hand does me no good. The scowl returns to Jean’s features, his gaze avoiding my own and eventually landing on the dog standing warily behind me. “And c’mon, what a cliché,” he mumbles, “a firefighter with a Dalmatian.”

 

“Alright, alright,” I say once I can form words around my quiet laughter, “You got me there. It’s a bit cheesy, isn’t it?”

 

“Only a bit.”

 

The silence that passes between us isn’t comfortable, but isn’t completely awkward either. The cold air makes my nose sting, I rub at it nervously. “Mind if I ask who you’re staying with?” I finally say, disturbing the air between us.

 

“Ah… do you know Christa and Ymir?”

 

I roll my eyes, and I am able to contain my laughter this time (although, marginally). _Do I know Christa and Ymir._ “How can I _not?_ ” Christa’s good at making it her business to make friends with all of her neighbors, and Ymir’s loud enough to be heard from a mile away. I don’t think there’s anyone in our building that doesn’t know Christa and Ymir.

 

That being said, I live right next door to the couple, and we’ve become good friends over the years. “I’m in 203” I state simply, and Jean looks to me in surprise.

 

“You’re right next door!”

 

“Yep.”

 

“How come I didn’t see you sooner?”

 

I shrug, “my work schedule’s usually pretty hectic for a couple of days, then a couple of days off. This is my first day off since, well…” my words trail off, but I can tell Jean knows what I’m getting at.

 

“Oh…”

 

“Yeah…” my gaze settles on my dog, who is slowly approaching the strange creature before him. The silence that settles between the two of us this time is a bit more comfortable.

 

“So what’s his name?” This time Jean is the one to speak first.

 

“Pongo.”

 

The booming laugh that starts up from beside me is enough to startle me, causing me to jump slightly. This is the first time I’ve heard Jean laugh, and I’ve decide that it’s a magnificent sound and that I’m going to make it my business to hear it more often.

 

“You’ve _got_ to be joking!”

 

I shake my head, “Nope.”

 

“Oh, man” Jean barks, wiping away a tear forming at his eye. “Please tell me he doesn’t have ninety-nine pups!”

 

I shake my head again, joining in on his laughter, “Thankfully, no. This boy’s enough of a handful on his own.”

 

We stand there laughing over something so completely stupid, and yet I can already tell that this is a great friendship in the making. “Hey,” I start once I’ve got my breathing under control again. “You wanna grab some coffee?”

 

Jean seems surprised by the offer, but nods. “Yeah, that would be… great.”

 

And so, the two of us walk with our tethered pets to the closest coffee shop, the seed of our new friendship planted and slowly taking root.


End file.
